


louder than sirens

by emmaofmisthaven



Series: Captain Swan AU Week 2015 [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Captain Swan AU Week 2015, F/F, F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You were assigned to me because you're the only woman on board."<br/>She meant it as a question, but it comes out as a fact. The lieutenant averts her eyes, pink high on her cheekbones</p>
            </blockquote>





	louder than sirens

The invitation to Elsa's coronation arrives with the first snow, and such a coincidence only makes Emma grin harder.

Her lady mother is so pregnant she looks like she swallowed a dwarf egg, and her lord father too worried about both mother and child to make the trip on his own – the pregnancy is a little miracle in itself, so long after Emma's birth. She understands her parents' concerns on the matter, and doesn't mind in the least having to go to Arendelle in her own.

Truth be told, she is ecstatic at the prospect.

A ship from the royal float will carry her across the ocean, its crew hand-picked by the queen herself. Nothing equals her children's safety, it is well known, and so she interviews many a captain before settling on the Jewel of the Realm.

A shiver of trepidation runs down Emma's spine as her trunk is carried to the ship on the morning of her departure. The journey to Arendelle isn't a short one – two weeks at least, if the sea is clement – and it was decided that she would stay with Elsa and Anna for another two months before coming back to Mist Haven. For old time's sake, of course, but also to establish treaties with the new queen – Emma's first politic mission as the crown princess of her own land.

She follows the sailor holding her trunk down some stairs until he stops in front of a door next to what she guesses to be the captain's cabin, and opens it with a shove of his shoulder. He drops the trunk in front of the bed, then turns to her and takes off his hat in a military salute. "Stay here, Your Highness. The captain will come to welcome you in a moment."

She nods her thanks, and watches him leave, before letting herself fall on the mattress. It creaks with the weight of her, not as comfortable as her bed back at the castle – but she spent a month with the Merry Men in the forest when Marian taught her to use a bow. Surely surviving on this ship will be a walk in the park, in comparison.

She's looking around her curiously, taking in the paintings on the walls and the few books on the desk in a corner, when the door to her cabin opens again. Emma stands up to bow, out of habit more than anything.

She recognizes the captain at his hat and uniform. He isn't one she ever met at court, but she heard her mother praising his job. If the journey goes well, as it should, Emma has no doubt it would offer him the rank of Admiral all too easily.

The captain isn't alone, though, and that more than anything surprises Emma. A woman stands behind him, their features so alike they can only be related. She is all business where the captain smiles openly, but there is a softness in both pairs of blue eyes that has Emma reassured immediately.

Her mother chose well.

"Your Highness," the captain says as he bows to her. "I am Captain Liam Jones and it is an honour to have you aboard the Jewel of the Realm."

She bows to him, again, and the captain moves to the side so the two women are facing each other. Emma doesn't knows if she's supposed to bow again – her etiquette lessons only went so far – so she settles for a polite but kind smile.

"Lieutenant Jones will be at your service through the duration of out journey," the captain goes on. Jones. Definitely siblings. "If you have any concern or demand, you can ask her."

The captain bows once more before leaving them to it. It is only a matter of minutes before the ship sets sail and he goes back on deck to give the orders while Emma is left staring at the woman in front of her.

"You were assigned to me because you're the only woman on board."

She meant it as a question, but it comes out as a fact. The lieutenant averts her eyes, pink high on her cheekbones. It is all the answer Emma needs. She might be a princess but she is not naive – even in the Navy, men have a less than stellar behaviour toward women. It is for her safety, a voice whispers in her ear, one that sounds a lot like her mother's.

“I’ll show you around the ship, Your Highness.”

The lieutenant leaves the cabin in a sway of her ponytail, and Emma has no choice but to hastily follow, least she loses the other woman around a corner of the ship. Emma doesn’t exactly believe she could get lost in such close quarters, but such a statement would underestimate her abilities to get herself into troubles. So she closes the door to her cabin behind her, and follows the lieutenant down the narrow hallway.

The lieutenant – should Emma ask for her name? – stops in her tracks then, and turns around to face Emma and point at something above the princess’s shoulder. “This door leads to the captain’s cabin. I would suggest you don’t knock before sunrise, he isn’t a morning person.” There is the shadow of a smirk on her lips as she says so. “The door opposite yours is my cabin. Knock whenever you like.”

Emma smiles and nods, and it seems to be enough for the other woman, because she nods in reply then starts walking again. She points to another door, apparently leading to the room where all sailors sleep, and tells Emma she shouldn’t venture there for her own safety. Then she opens yet another door, white steam escaping into the hallway and bringing with it the smell of warm broth.

“Those are the kitchen, and our cook, Mister Jukes.” An old man with a missing tooth and a tired uniform glares at them above the rim of a cauldron. The lieutenant leans towards Emma, and whispers, “He thinks women on a ship is bad form, but you can come and steal food, he won’t mind.”

Emma stifles a laugh behind her hand as she glances to the other woman. She is offered a grin, and only laughs louder. The cook glares even hard, and so the lieutenant nods for them to take their leave, then leads her upstairs and towards the deck.

The wind messes with her hair before she even steps on deck, salty and cold against her eyes. Everything around her is blue and white, from the sky to the clouds to the men’s uniforms, and she can only grin at the seagulls flying high above the ship as if following it.

“Your Highness?”

She turns to the lieutenant, having for a moment forgotten about her present by her side. Not that the other woman seems to mind, standing there with her hands clasped behind her back and an easy smile on her lip.

“I shall go back to my functions now. Will you be alright on your own?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She bows, leans forwards while she raises her foot a little, like she isn’t exactly certain how to proceed. It is surprisingly endearing. Then she stands straight again, and nods – to herself, mostly – before turning her back to Emma.

“Lieutenant?” She turns around once more. “What is your name?”

She grins, dimples in her cheeks. “It’s Jillian, Your Highness.”

 

…

 

Emma had underestimated how boring this journey would be.

There is so much sea, blue and vast and endless, you can gaze upon until it becomes repetitive. The crew mind their own business, as they should, and she finds herself regretting not taking a handmaiden with her. Their conversation consists mostly of castle gossips, something Emma isn’t particularly fond of, but it would be better than just reading book after book in between meals and naps.

She doesn’t dare annoying the lieutenant with such matters – she is a lieutenant, not a lady-in-waiting, she has better things to do than to entertain a bored princess. So instead Emma takes to sitting in a corner, where she is certain not to bother anyone, and spends time between reading and watching the crew working. She finds a pattern in their tasks, eventually. That’s how bored she is.

“I have books in my cabin if you want.”

Jillian flops down next to her on the stairs leading to the helm, and hands her an apple, red and juicy. Emma closes the book and takes the fruit, bites into it. She shrugs, a little.

“I’m fine, really.”

“Are you?”

Jillian’s eyes gaze into hers, open and knowing. It is unsettling, the way she seems to read Emma’s soul, and so Emma has to avert her eyes. She isn’t an expert in the arts of courtship, despite her mother’s valiant efforts – too many a ball thrown in hope she would find the perfect match, too many tea parties in the gardens with too many a suitor. Even then, Emma knows women don’t leave her indifferent, either. She pined on Elsa for longer than should ever be appropriate, after all.

Still – she doesn’t expect the shiver running up her spine at Jillian’s knowing eyes. It is ridiculous. It is the woman’s job to take care of Emma, so of course she would be worried, it doesn’t mean anything more. It’s just projecting, at that point. So Emma shakes her head and forces herself not to focus on this, to focus on anything else really.

“I expected it to be more – _more_.”

Jillian laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “Sorry to disappoint. Maybe we’ll see a pod of whales, if we are lucky enough.”

Emma chuckles. Yes, she had expected pirates, and mermaids, and even perhaps a kraken – the journey made even more disappointing by her fantasies and how wild her mind can run sometimes. She has heard too many a tale when she was a child, told by her father before bedtime; Lancelot’s bravery, Galavant’s love for Isabella, Ariel’s quest for freedom. Reality seems dull, in comparison.

(Not that she would want the kind of life her parents lived, this is dreadful too. Just – more than she has.)

“Tell me a story, then,” she says, and leans with her elbows on her knees, chin resting in her palms. “How does a woman become a naval lieutenant?”

Jillian laughs, again.

Emma could get used to the sound.

“Out of sheer luck, really. I was a wee lass when Liam found me, after our father abandoned me. Barely a scrap of clothe on my back and cooties in my hair, so we shaved it all before boarding the ship. The crew thought me a boy until puberty hit, and then it was too late to get rid of me.”

Emma stiffens a laugh, which only results in her snorting through the nose in the most unladylike fashion. Jillian grins, proud, even with red on her cheeks and ears.

They trade stories for a little while longer – that of fare-away lands Emma never visited, and of other realms both of them dream of discovering – until the captain yells for Jillian to go back to her post. She does so, but with a heavy sigh and a slump in her shoulders that has Emma grinning to herself like a fool.

 

…

 

“You look different.”

Elsa has that way about her in than she looks ten years older than she actually is. Snow White calls that being an old soul, Emma calls that slightly unsettling. Especially when her grey eyes won’t leave Emma, like she is being analysed in her every detail – perhaps to be found wanted.

“Of course I look different. We haven’t seen each other in five years.”

Elsa isn’t convince, pursing her lips at Emma in that judgemental way of hers, the same way she did when they were ten and under Merlin’s tutelage. _No, Emma, we won’t sneak out today, we need to practice_. The words branded into her brains for how many times she heard them.

“No. Something else.”

Emma refuses to blush.

She refuses to think of blue eyes and a ponytail.

 

…

 

Two months pass in the blink of an eye.

Emma gets along well enough with Elsa, and their kingdoms never were at war to begin with, so it takes barely more than a few days to review the treaties and write new ones – the only significant difference the signatures at the bottom of the pages. It is Emma’s main concern regarding Arendelle after Elsa’s coronation, and it is done all within the first week of her stay at the castle.

Everything else after that – well, everything else is just entertainment, really. She goes horse-riding with Anna, and wanders the streets of the city with Elsa, spends her evenings with both sisters, snuggled up in heavy blankets next to the fireplace. They practice magic together, like when they were teenagers, and Emma even assists Elsa during her meetings with the people, listening to their problems and helping when they can.

It feels like Emma just arrived at the castle when she has to pack her things and close her trunk, Jewel of the Realm having set sail in port that morning. Tears threaten to appear at the corner of her eyes when she hugs Elsa goodbye – the young queen grins her way, promising they will meet again soon enough.

“Perhaps for your wedding?” she adds cheekily.

Emma glares at her, only half-heartedly.

Her cheeks aren’t red. They’re not.

Just like they’re not when she step foot on the deck of the Jewel of the Realm and Jillian grins at her from her spot next to the helm. She beams a little, ponytail swaying with the movement of her body, and Emma has to force herself to look away – after long seconds of staring.

She goes to her cabin, if only to get rid of the corset she had to wear at court, opting for a lighter dress instead. She has no one to impress here (well, barely anyone) and the men know better than to gawk her way now. It makes her ever movement easier as she moves around the ship, stealing some lemon cakes from the kitchen before settling on the stairs leading to the helm.

The captain is barking orders left and right, men running around to set sail while the wind is in their favour. Jillian runs around too, with her share amount of barking, and Emma grins around a mouthful of lemon cake when their eyes meet. Jillian gives her a salute, two fingers to her temple, before going to help the men with the rigging.

Things settle down when they are out in the open ocean, and so does Jillian, sitting next to Emma like it is the most natural thing to do. And perhaps it is, their arm brushing slightly as they grin at each other like the fools they are.

(Anna’s voice singsong in her head.)

( _Fools in l_ …)

(Emma shuts her up.)

“Did you miss me?” Emma asks, teasing.

Jillian looks away and scratches at the spot just beneath her ear. Her cheeks aren’t red, yet, but it’s a close thing. Also, she won’t meet Emma’s eyes, and it does things to the princess’s belly.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” she replies, her voice forced in how cheerful it is. Fake it until you make it, or so they say, and Jillian would need some confidence she obviously lacks.

“I did too.”

Jillian’s cheeks flush.

 

…

 

Emma’s father always told her to seize the good moments when she sees them.

It’s not so much that she doesn’t see the right moment, because she does, but she finds herself looking for a perfect opportunity that never comes. It is unfortunate, really, because the ship is to arrive in Mist Haven in two days time, and so time is running out. So Emma squares her shoulders, and tells herself that she will create her perfect opportunity, if she has to.

She tosses and turns a lot that night, not even the rocking of the ship enough to lull her to sleep when her mind won’t rest. Her attempts at courtship have been non-existent so far, and any wooing from her suitors was always as formal as they get. She doesn’t know – where to begin, really.

Which is probably why she finds herself kicking the blankets before she paddles her way across the cabin, then across the narrow hallway. Her knocking is soft enough that the captain won’t hear it from his cabin, but insistent enough that Jillian definitely will.

And she does.

Emma gasps at the sight of her when she opens the door, wearing a thin white shirt and – barely anything else, really. Her hair falls loosing around her face in a tangle of dark strands, and her eyes blink away sleep as they focus on Emma.

“Your Highness,” she says, voice heavy with sleep but more alert by the second. “Is everything alright?”

“I need your help with something,” Emma says, refusing to cower when Jillian’s eyes rack over her body as if searching for wounds. “I’m hurting.”

Jillian’s eyes snap back to her, wide and a little afraid. Emma only smirks.

“Here,” she says, tapping two fingers to her heart. “And here,” she goes on, tapping her lips.

The other woman swallows, loud in the silence of the night, her eyes dropping to Emma’s mouth then up again. Even in the darkness, her cheeks are crimson, and she looks like she is going to hyperventilate in a matter of seconds. Emma’s heart jumps in her chest at how lovely this all is.

“I can help,” she says, with the determination of someone ready to jump into battle.

Emma giggles, and grabs her neck, pulling her toward her in a kiss. Jillian’s lips are soft, and as hesitant as Emma’s, tentative in the way them move. Her hand finds Emma’s jaw, though, angling it just so – she deepens the kiss and move forwards, body flushed against the other. Emma moans, a little, at the feeling of Jillian’s breasts pressed to hers, and the noise seems to do thing to them both, kiss more fervent, more feverish.

They break apart, out of breath, and Jillian grins, all dimples and sparkling eyes.

“Did that help?”

“I don’t know. You should try again.”

She does.


End file.
